Gray
by loveackshuly
Summary: Hermione has a secret. This prompt was given to me by a good friend and I wound up liking the story a lot more than I thought. I love how discrete the twist is. You need to look closely. Things aren't always what they seem. ;D


"Whoa, whoa, slow down there little one," Hermione cooed, narrowing dodging being run down by a particularly distraught four year old. Placing a steady hand on the little girl's shoulder to stop her from rushing off again in a hurry, her other was wiped on the kitchen apron she had tied around her waist. The roast she had been fixing for dinner that evening was going to have to be put on hold.

"No, Mummy! Let go!"

The messy-haired brunette fussed and bat at her mother's hand. But Hermione wouldn't be so easily put off. Stooping down, she faced Rose at eye level, brushing away a damp lock of hair from her child's eyes, unsure whether the reason it was soaked was from sweat or tears or perhaps, a mixture of both. It was late July and the heat was stifling. Britain had seen record temperatures in the recent weeks and the thick blanket of humidity that went hand in hand with the sweltering sun showed no signs of letting up in the near future. But that didn't mean a young child knew any different. Playtime was playtime and before nursery started, Rose was determined to squeeze in every free moment of freedom she could, regardless of how hot it was outdoors. Hermione, of course, had been wary of the idea of her oldest spending so much time outside of the chilled house when the dangers of the summer days were eminent. Compromise had been the only solution and an agreement was made that allowed Rose to run around with her next door playmates only if they promised to stay indoors.

It seemed to have been working quite well for the most part. Hugo was much easier to manage – He seemed afraid of going outside for too long if his mother wasn't around and was more content to amuse himself in the playroom or watch as Hermione did household tasks while his father was away at work. Even today, on a Sunday, Ron was training and though it was for good reason, Hermione had rather hoped it would be a weekend they could all spend together. Not being the case, she was easier to convince for Rose to meet up with her little friend one house over. The free time allowed the matriarch of the family to prepare what was turning out to be quite a lovely feast for when her husband returned, a surprise of sorts.

But it was Hermione who had the surprise when Rose stormed into the house much earlier than expected.

"What happened, darling?"

"Nothing. Go _away!_" Rose whined, stamping her foot and fidgeting to get around her mother.

Holding onto her daughter's small upper arms to steady her, Hermione remained calm, used to such frustrated outbursts from the girl. "I'm not going anyway, Rosie," she assured her. "And neither are you until you tell me what's happened."

"Gail is a big stupid poohead!"

"Well that isn't very nice to say. Gail is one of your best mates, I thought!"

"Not anymore! She said my drawing my scary and ugly and that she didn't like it at _all_," said Rose, clutching onto a crumpled piece of paper in her small fist. "And then! Then she tried to take my crayon and say _she_ could draw it better. But I wouldn't let her, Mummy because it was _my_ drawing and it wasn't ugly!" She protested, shaking her head and adopting a tone as if she were speaking to her small friend Gail as opposed to her mother. It was one of Rose's qualities that Hermione loved so much about her – the ability to take such a firm stance, even against her peers. Of course, it made her a bit more a handful when it came to _parenting_ her, but it was something that Hermione would never want to change.

"Can I see?" Hermione asked softly, loosening her grip on the girl's arms. Eyeing her mother up for a moment, Rose finally relented and with a heaving sigh, handed over the paper. Hermione smoothed the paper out over a knee, hand brushing out the creases that marked the disagreement between the four-year olds as best she could to reveal what looked to be a dark blue-colored sun. "Why isn't the sun yellow, sweetheart? You love yellow," she remarked in an uncritical tone. It wasn't to say her daughter's work was poorly done in any way of course, but instead, it was phrased out of curiosity for the sudden change. Rose was very artistic, ever eager to engage in any sort of painting, drawing, or modeling activities and so it was quite often that Hermione was taking a look at the latest creation the brunette girl came up with. This was just one she hadn't seen anything quite like before.

"So!" Rose groaned. "You sound just like poohead, Mummy!"

"Rose Grace…" Hermione warned sternly.

"Well just 'cause everyone _says_ something is s'posed ta' look some way doesn't mean it _has_ to," she said defiantly, looking up at her mother with deep gray eyes that held wisdom far beyond their years. Hermione stared back at them, studying watery shade and remaining silent for a few moments.

"You are so much like your father," she whispered aloud.

Making a face, Rose wriggled in front of Hermione. "Am not!" she said. "I'm cuter than Daddy," she said with a cheeky grin that erased the hurt she held a few minutes beforehand. It was so amazing the way children could change their emotional state so quickly and instill a brand new one in their parents without even realizing it. "Can I go now?" she asked, looking beyond Hermione's shoulder before turning an slate gaze back at her, waiting for approval.

Kissing the little girl's unblemished cheek, Hermione nodded before getting to her feet. "Go on then, love," she said with a smile. "And, by the way, _I_ happen to think your drawing is lovely," she added.

Rose's face lit up and a toothy smile was soon to follow. "That's because you're the best Mummy in the whole world!" she said before scampering off, leaving Hermione to tuck away the picture with the rest of her drawings, just like another secret was tucked away with a collection of an entirely different sort.


End file.
